Still working on this. I know what I want to happen, but to make it happen...
After the inevitable avalanche of plots resulting in Berserker Lancelot being put on snow shovel duty outside to keep the front door clear of snow for the next month, Astolfo's hair being set on fire, and Mephisto somehow ending up tied to an exercise machine at the bottom of one of the elevator shafts, it ended with Moriarty and Holmes taking each other out to recover under the care(?) of Nightingale, where Holmes futilely tried to get her to give him some morphine, and Moriarty found himself being waited on hand and foot by Berserker and Saber Fran. It was put down as a French victory, since Nightingale opted to give Holmes a BBB-chain anesthesia. This eventually led to the Holmes' Vengeance Event, but we won't get into that now, since we haven't even finished this one yet.
Then the English got hold of Shuten Douji's booze, and things got really messy.
………………………………….
It is a little known fact that, like the Masters and ironically not Shielder, Santa are immune to the affects of alcohol and potent alcohol fumes, as well as never gaining weight or coming down with diabetes. It has to do with being able to withstand millions of offerings of milk, cookies, and occasionally eggnog offered by most of the western hemisphere.
As such, Lancer Jeanne Alter Santa Lily was one of the few Servants still functional after the English had used gas warfare and deployed Shuten Douji's booze. Santa Rider Alter Artoria was theoretically also active, but she was eating all the unattended food 'so that they wouldn't go to waste and put people on the Naughty list'.
This alcohol immunity did not protect her from the smell of random puddles of vomit, occasionally with a passed out Chaldea technician or Servant not far away from it. Her nose crinkled as she walked carefully around such obstacles, trying not to look directly at the people actually lying in the vomit. Not for the first time, she wished her clothes had more fabric to them so she had something to cover her nose.
Thankfully, the hallways were mostly clear as most people in Chaldea were not the lightweight in alcohol tolerance Mashu was and had either gotten out of the area, gone for the gas masks or sat down and gotten drunk on fumes.
Eventually, she made her way to one of the rooms in the nominally American part of Chaldea. Considering that consisted of a grand total of six Servants, it was a sparsely populated zone. The air was filled with the smells of smoke, gunpowder, ozone, maple syrup and chocolate.
She had no reason to sneak– and in fact should not need to since as a Santa she should by rights have Presence Concealment to rival King Hassan if it weren't for this weakass Saint Graph!– but felt she should anyway. The determined Jeanne D'Arc part of her soul screamed at her that this was treasonous behavior and a betrayal of all things right and French. It was outvoted by the Santa and innocent little girl part of her, and so was being pouty by trying to make her feel weird.
Eventually, she reached a door where the smell of maple syrup was strongest and, looking furtively over her shoulder and down both ends of the corridor, gave the secret knock. It sounded like 'Jingle Bells', even though it wasn't. She was a Santa. For some reason everything sounded like Jingle Bells when she did it.
The door opened a crack. “Password,” the suspiciously light and high-pitched voice inside hissed.
“The significant Fou hoots in the night,” the little Santa said, still feeling cagey.
“Yet many silver Sabers go sadly to the Masterless men,” said the young person on the other side to the door.
“Hooray, hooray for the spinster's sister's daughter,” the Santa countered.
“To the Berserker, all enemies are the same height,”
“Yet verily, the rose is within the thorn.”
“The good mother makes bean soup for the errant daughter,” the voice from behind the door said.
There was a pause. The Santa frowned. “What?”
“The good mother makes bean soup for the errant daughter.”
There was another pause. “Are you sure the ill-built model doesn't tremble mightily at Altera's passing?”
“Nope. Bean soup.”
There was a longer, alcohol-rich silence.
“What about the caged Beast?” said the little Santa.
“What about it?”
“It should know nothing of the starry void, if you must know.”
There was an annoyed sigh, and the door opened the rest of the way. Kuro von Einzbern stuck her head out. “Look, we were over this two days ago Jeanne-chan. Bunyan's room is two more doors down. Just because this room smells like maple syrup doesn't mean it's her room.”
“Eh?” the Santa said, pouting at the fourth member of the Chaldea True Lolis Self-Defense Society. “Then what are you doing here, then?”
“Meeting a Roman,” Kuro said blandly. “Go on, git! I'm starting to get tipsy.” She jerked a thumb in the direction of the right room and closed the door.
Lancer Jeanne Alter Santa Lily glared at the portal. “You're on the naughty list!” she declared.
“I'm always on the naughty list! Go away!” was the muffled response.
Muttering to herself about why they bothered to be friends with that weirdo, Lancer Jeanne Alter Santa Lily stomped off.
edited 23rd Nov '17 11:10:05 PM by SCMof2814
A Nero of, course. She's not into guys not onii-chan.
Also, recommendation! https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12741188/1/I-Can-t-Believe-It-s-Not-a-Game
And now, new segment! I think i know how to end this chapter now.
The door opened a crack.
"The significant Fou fous in the night and if you don't let me in right now no presents for you! Come on, it stinks out here!" the Santa hissed.
“But how are we supposed to know it's really you and not some spy?” the girl on the other side whined.
“Alice, it smells like barf and beer out here. Let me in!”
Apparently the prospect of leaving even a potential spy to marinate in the stench of vomit and alcohol was too distasteful for the other SR. The door was opened enough for the little Santa to finally enter.
Even as she entered she was struck by the thick miasma of scents. Fresh cut wood and sap, blue ox, sawdust, blue ox, maple syrup, blue ox, buttered scones, blue ox, tea, blue ox, blood, blue ox, ginger cookies, blue ox sweat and blue ox. Lancer Jeanne Alter Santa Lily really had to wonder how a little (allegedly giant) blue ox that barely came up to her thighs managed to smell so strongly. Really, the special fresh cut wood, sap and sawdust-scented candle they'd given Bunyan as a housewarming gift barely put a dent in it.
As soon as the doors were closed, she found herself engulfed in hugs. One felt like she was being hugged by an enthusiastic department store mannequin, and the other made her worry she was going to come out of this missing an ear, but that was a perfectly normal sensation when being hugged by Nursery Rhyme and Jack the Ripper.
“Ah, Jeanne! It's so good to see you again!” Nursery Rhyme cried, burying her face in the Santa's white mantle. Unlike her arms, which were like articulated doll arms, her face was soft, warm and currently wet with tears and maybe a little snot. Nursery Rhyme did not cry in a dignified way. “We missed you so much!”
“We did, we did,” Jack the Ripper confirmed in her weird kinda-sort-not-but-a-little-maybe English-ish accent, her wide, sincere smile tugging on her facial scars. She didn't smell like blood and sewage, but rather gave off the sensation that she should, even when she'd just freshly showered. Which apparently hadn't been in a while, since she smelled kinda ripe. "We missed you Jeanne!"
Lancer Jeanne Alter Santa Lily let that go as she hugged her close friends, even as huge hands came around to gently engulf them. One carefully, tenderly patted Jeanne on the head, which was like have a heavy, warm blanket almost but not quite fall on your head. Bunyan was a giant after all, and even though she could somehow shrink to fit indoors, her head always just brushed the ceiling, meaning she was actually smaller when she was standing than if she was sitting down.
Don’t think about it, it was one of those weird Chaldea things.
"Now we can finally have a tea party!" Nursery Rhyme said excitedly as Bunyan pulled back her hand, pulling Jeanne towards a corner of the room with a smile. Smiling, Jeanne let herself be pulled along by her friend's enthusiasm.
The smile faded, however, when she saw the arrangements. "What happened to your table?" she asked, aghast.
Nursery Rhyme gave an embarrassed smile at her table. Or rather, her lack of table. Well, technically it was a table, since there was an elevated flat surface on which food had been placed, but considering it was two orange crates with a blackboard on top (the words 'Teach us Jaguar-sensei!' were still visible in one corner), compared to the beautiful carved hardwood piece they usually did their teaparties with, it was an abomination. “Um, well the King Artorias are renting my table right now since they need a round table. But don't worry! They gave me ten gold Nero Medals for it!” Nursery Rhyme said, happily holding up the currency.
“…” Jeanne said. “Alice, the item shop stopped accepting that as currency months ago.
“EH?-!” Alice cried in distress. Jack looked shock at this news. “W-well. Let's have tea anyway. After all, the table isn't important! What's important is you do it with your friends!”
For a moment, Jeanne was inclined to let it go. What Nursery Rhyme said was completely true. After all, she really didn't care about the table. She had never really noticed the table before. It was just what had held their food and tea, something to sit around as they enjoyed each others' company. It wasn't anything important.
Then her eyes met Jack's. There was indignation and outrage there, the more so because it was unexpected. Jack held her gaze and shook her head.
“No,” Jeanne said, taking Nursery Rhyme's hard, doll-like hands with it's lovingly carved ball joints in her own. “No, Alice. You deserve better. You deserve a good tea party, with your friends and good food and an actual table! Where did you even get a blackboard, anyway?”
“Oh, I asked Illyasviel, and she got it from Miss Jaguarmura,” Nursery Rhyme said. “Apparently they use it for some kind of teaching dojo for main characters who lose somehow?”
“Well, it's no good,” the Santa– no, Jeanne D'arc, Heroic Holy Maiden of France, declared. She summoned her spear, and if it wasn't exactly a banner, the streamers tied to it did just as well. They fluttered in the breeze Bunyan conveniently made by grabbing a piece of cardboard and flapping it in her direction as Lancer Jeanne Alter Santa Lily took on a determined pose. “For such an ugly thing to grace one of Nursery Rhyme's beautiful tea parties is an abomination! My friends! For the first time, I raise this banner for our tea party's– no, for our friendship's salvation! Order has gone up in flames, and so much purpose has been lost! Our peace vanished in but a second! Listen to my words, brave friends gathered here, legion of brave heroic spirits! No matter that French fight English in the halls of Chaldea, no matter how far apart our floors are, I have always entrusted my back to you! My true name is Jeanne d'Arc. In the name of my lord, I shall stand as your Santa! Though this Chaldea has become the battlefield of a Civil War, though the cafeteria has been brought to ruin, though countless formidable foes block your path, the end has still yet to be determined by anyone. Now, let us begin our fight, friends. For Nursery Rhyme's table, and for our tea time together!”
Wow. Now she totally understood why eldest sister kept recycling her speech. It felt so good!
Determinedly, Jeanne turned to Jack. “Jack. I know you're English and I'm French. I know you're the one who left that disgusting pie thing in our refrigerator.” The legendary Jack the Ripper had the grace to blush. “But this is bigger than that. This is more important. I'm asking for your help. To break into Camelot (Annex) and steal– no, to retrieve it, since it was stolen unfairly– to retrieve Alice's precious tea table, a prize greater than any Holy Grail, the blessed site of Alice's sacred tea time together! I know it will be hard. Will you help me anyway?”
Jeanne held out a hand.
Without hesitation, Jack took it. “For Alice's tea time,” she said, as if she didn't occasionally ditch it to watch Nightingale and Jekyll do surgery.
“G-girls,” Nursery Rhyme said, sniffling. “It's not really that important. You don't have to do this.” The hesitant, grateful smile she gave them made her real feelings obvious.
Bunyan put down the fan and patted Jeanne and Jack on the head. “You're good friends,” the lumberjack said approvingly.
Jeanne took a deep breath and turned back to Jack. “Okay. So how do we break into the silliest place in Chaldea?”
edited 30th Nov '17 11:25:29 PM by SCMof2814
Ah, I thought it was an oblique reference to the Pit of Doom at Shayol Ghul with those spikes that are always just above your head no matter how tall you are.
edited 1st Dec '17 1:00:34 AM by 32ndfreeze
Still working on it! Wow, this has been a long time in development I started on this before the 2017 Halloween event.
“Quiet,” Jack said. “Cardboard boxes aren't supposed to talk.”
“I'm a Santa, darn it! I should have perfect Presence Concealment! After all, Santa is supposed to break into every house in the world on the same night without being noticed!”
“Well, you don't. Now be quiet, or someone will hear!”
Jeanne decided that all the alcohol fumes must be the cause of it, since there was no other way to explain how she managed to sneak into English territory hiding under a cardboard box, trailing behind Jack. Behind her, the cardboard box containing Nursery Rhyme followed, moving a bit awkwardly since the other girl's longer poofy skirt made it hard to sneak. Never mind the huge shipping container-type box Bunyan was using to sneak around.
Yes, only the passed-out drunk could possibly miss their little thieving party.
The plan was elegant in it's simplicity. Get it, take back Alice's table, get out. What could possibly go wrong?
An hour later, they were back in Bunyan's room, drinking tea and eating little tea snacks around the restored round wooden table.
See? Nothing went wrong. What were you worrying about?
When the Artorias sobered up, it took them about an hour to notice the table was gone, since they didn't actually eat there. They had an actual dining table for that.
“Oh dear!” Saber Lily exclaimed when it was discovered. “Nursery Rhyme's table!”
“Damn the French!” Saber Alter cried. “No doubt this is their vile doing!”
“We need to recover the Round Table right away!” Lancer Alter agreed. “We cannot let it remain in French hands!”
Saber Lily paused. “Um, why would the French… well, steal Nursery Rhyme's table?”
“Clearly, the French stole the Round Table to humiliate us,” Lancer Artoria said. “This cannot stand! For our honor, we mus retrieve the round table!”
There was a hue and cry as the Artorias charged out to attack the French, followed by most of the other Englishmen and allies.
Most, that is, except for an uncharacteristically frowning Saber Lily and (Saber) Mordred. The reason for the latter was because the former had grabbed one of the many conveniently handle-like protrusion of the latter's armor (which is what happens when a grown knight lets their mother pick out their armor) in a firm and exasperated grip.
“Okay, this is going too far,” the smaller Princess of Knights said, sounding like someone who'd finally gotten to the end of a very long line only to find that the person before her had been the very last customer before the line closed, and they'd have to do this all over again and were sick of it. “Something needs to be done about this.”
Her tone made Mordred squirm like they were being chided by their mother. Which was weird because Mordred hadn't given much of a damn about said mother, but this was the unfortunate effect of a papacon being chided by the most feminine version of said father, whom they actually liked, respected and borderline worshiped even more than the other versions and who actually seemed to like them back in an almost familial way.
By such twists through the far side of weirdness do Pendragons come to having a normal family.
Finally, Mordred said “Well, there's nothing I can do. Father and father and father and father and father and father and father and crazy Jedi father don't listen to me.”
“That's not true,” Saber Lily protested, though it was a bit weak in the face of reality. “I listen to you.”
The wide-eyed, puppy-like stare of utter worship Mordred sent her way passed completely through her. Saber Lily, in her own way, also didn't listen.
The door opened again, and (Swimsuit) Mordred stuck their head in. “Hey, aren't you coming? Ack! Why are you alone with father?” The rest of them entered the room. “Is this the legendary father-son bonding I've heard about? I thought it was just a myth!”
Saber Lily smiled brightly at (Swimsuit) Mordred. “I was just having a private word with the other you, Mordred. We were discussing how we were going to stop all this foolishness.”
“Yeah. This is secret conspiracy stuff, so run along and don't tell anyone,” (Saber) Mordred said, waving a gauntleted hand at their counterpart and sneering as best as one could when their father is holding them by the armor.
“Ack! That's not fair! You just want this father all to yourself!” (Swimsuit) Mordred exclaimed. “I want to join the secret conspiracy too!”
“Well, you can't,” (Saber) Mordred shot back. “This is a special, private conspiracy between me and father. Shoo! Go away!!”
Saber Lily frowned. “Really Mordred, that's no way to behave. I won't have any Knight of mine treat themselves so badly.” Turning towards (Swimsuit) Mordred and ignoring that cosmic shitbrick of irony, Saber Lily smiled and said, “Of course you may join our conspiracy Mordred. I trust you to keep a secret, and so does Mordred. Don't you Mordred?”
When there was no response, Saber Lily shook (Saber) Mordred by their armor.
“Meh,” (Saber) Mordred said, pouting like a kid who'd been told to share. “I guess.”
“Yes,” (Swimsuit) Mordred, pumping their fist. “So, what's the secret?-!”
“We,” said Saber Lily, “are going to end this silly war with the French by doing something unthinkable. We are going to apologize and sue for peace.”
“Aw,” (Swimsuit) Mordred. “Do we have to?”
Saber Lily frowned, leaving the Mordreds to squirm guiltily, with a strong urge to bow their heads and say 'Yes Mother'.
“However,” Saber Lily said, relaxing her expression and accepting this as Mordred being Mordred, “first we must restore poor Nursery Rhyme's table to her. Though we took it from her under false pretenses, it is still our responsibility and we must ensure it's safe return. While I doubt it is in French hands, it is certainly gone, and must be found. Fortunately, there exists a group of knights who are experienced in questing forth to find lost objects.”
(Swimsuit) Mordred blinked. “You… want to go on a quest to find a little girl's tea party table?”
“Oh no, Sir Mordred,” Saber Lily said beatifically. Unlike most people in Chaldea, this was genuine beatitude, and certainly more innocent and pure than most of the Holy Maidens they had. “I cannot go, for am needed elsewhere. However, I am sure it is a quest you are suited to handle.”
“You want me to go on a quest to find a little girl's tea party table?” (Swimsuit) Mordred exclaimed. “Why me?”
“You did insist on joining this conspiracy,” Saber Lily said. She suddenly looked uncertain. “Unless… you do not want to?”
“Argh!” (Swimsuit) Mordred cried, looking away so as not to see the disappointment in those eyes. “All right, I'll do it, I'll do it! I'll go on a quest to find the stupid kiddie table!”
“Hey, it's no stupider than some of the stuff the other guys have gone looking for,” (Saber) Mordred said. “Remember Galahad trying to find some place called Castle Anthrax?”
“Oh, yeah, that,” (Swimsuit) Mordred said, nodding. “I never really got what was so important about that place. Didn't mother want to send us there once?”
“Really Mordred,” Saber Lily said, frowning and making the Mordreds feel guiltier, “this could all have been avoided if you'd just been honest and admitted we were talking you wanting to fuck Marie Antoinette.”
(Saber) Mordred avoided (Swimsuit) Mordred's gaze. “I thought we agreed never to bring that up again!” Mordred exclaimed, blushing.
“Oh, you too?” (Swimsuit) Mordred said.
Saber Lily and (Saber) Mordred stared.
The Rider shrugged. “What? I'm not an Alter, I think the same way you do.” Their expression, usually much more relaxed and pleasant than their counterpart, became outright dreamy as they sighed, staring up at something only they could see. “Hmm, those legs…”
“Don't say that out loud!” the Saber cried.
“Why not? There's only girly-Father here, and she's the cool Father,” the Rider said, giving Saber Lilly an approving nod.
Saber Lily tried to protest being called girly, and realized that any correction made her sound like some kind of etiquette book. And being so highly thought of above her fellow Artorias felt so good when it wasn't usually the case. She coughed, trying not to blush and let the complement go to her head. “Ahem. Well. Go on you quest, Sir Mordred, while your other self and I shall try to forge peace in the midst of war.”
“You know, if you succeed, you'd be the first father to pull it off,” the Rider said, nodding and looking thoughtful.
Saber Lily tried not to let that go to her head either. “Ehem. Well, let us be off! Oh, and be sure to go and tell poor Nursery Rhyme something happened to her table and that we are setting off to recover it. We must be honest and accountable about these things.”
edited 13th Dec '17 11:58:04 PM by SCMof2814
... <sigh> Why did Type-Moon have to make Saber Lily a teenaged post-Caliburn Artoria (i.e. just a phase before she went full "King Arthur") rather than an AU Artoria who owned up to her real gender and, despite this alienating a lot of the knights under her command, still managed to establish a peaceful realm spanning all of Britain?
Fiat iustitia, et pereat mundus.Because that would be too interesting, I suppose.
Let the joy of love give you an answer! Check out my book!
x5
Because the idea of Saber Lily ever being that was only something that part of the fanbase came up with.
Heck, before Grand Order, the only statement we had was from Nasu and... I can't remember if it was Urobuchi or Takeuchi talking at the time. Anyway, the idea presented there (possibly presented jokingly, possibly not) was that Saber Lily was the Artoria who broke under Medea's kinky bondage play during the Unlimited Blade Works route, and was now her minion (and therefore was the Artoria who turned full Heel).
The same place that discussion came from is also where the statement came from that Saber Alter is not really a villainous Artoria, but rather a Dark Hero Artoria.
edited 24th Dec '17 4:52:15 AM by Tsuzurao
So, after much procrastinating, I've finally posted Chaldea Daily Life. Enjoy and review please
.
Well, it's that time of year again. I'm posting the first of this year's Valentine's Day snippets here! Enjoy!
“Che, that cheapskate asked me for chocolate this year again,” Mordred, the Saber Knight of Trechery, groused, sighing at the thought of the half-finished chocolate bar that had been swindled from them again. “Honestly, why can't that damned Master of ours buy her own chocolate?”
They passed by Ereshkigal, who was muttering to herself, clearly working up the nerve to do something, and glancing down the hallway towards the cafeteria Mordred had just left. Mordred shook their head, wondering how that crazy red-headed Master of their's managed to make newbies so ga-ga for her. It must have been something in the udon, there was no other reasonable explanation for it.
As they made their way to their room, Mordred was surprised to see a familiar white-clad form, and frantically wiped their mouth in case it still had chocolate around it. At the sound of their approach, Saber Lily glanced up and smiled a beatific, innocent smile.
“Oh, Mordred,” she said, and Mordred's heart instantly lightened, mostly because Saber Lily got their name right and didn't call them something silly like Mo-san or Moe-chan. “I was hoping you would return soon.”
“Huh? Why?” Mordred asked.
With a smile, Saber Lily held up a box. Well, to be more accurate, it was one of the thermal-sealed lunchboxes the cafeteria used when sending food to the labs, for when people were too busy to leave but still needed food. “Here. After I finished making my chocolate for Master, I still had a bunch of raw materials left over. I'd eat them myself, but I'm a little sick of chocolate right now, so I thought you might like them.”
Saber Lily opened the box and Mordred stared. For a moment, the expression on their face was less like a Knight's (of Treachery or otherwise), and more like Drake, Columbus and Blackbeard finding a huge pile of gold. “I-is that…?”
Irregular globs, a few almost complete heart shapes, many damaged heart chunks and what looked like a part of a brick of chocolate where in a plastic bag in the bow.
Saber Lily looked apologetic. “Well, carving chocolate is difficult, so I had man failures. At first I recycled the, but after a while the flavor seemed to suffer a little, so I started making new ones. I-I hope you don't think I'm just trying to foist my failures off on you, but–”
“I'll take it!” Mordred cried, holding the box and still staring at it's contents with a piratical expression. They finally looked up, tears in their eyes. “Thank you!”
A month later, Saber Lily stared with some bemusement at the box filled with marshmallow golem body parts. “Well… at least they remembered?”
It was another perfectly ordinary Valentines Day even in Chaldea.
... One of these days, I'm gonna write an FGO fanfic in which Mordred catches a break from being this kind of Butt-Monkey.
Fiat iustitia, et pereat mundus.

Sound the alarms, people. Path of the King now has a Prana Transfer Ritual scene.
It is truly a Fate/stay night fic now.
Let the joy of love give you an answer! Check out my book!